Page 11 of Off with Her Head
Chapter
Five
SCARLETT
My body still hums with the residual energy of our connection, a persistent warmth that no amount of cold rationality can extinguish. I find myself absently touching my palm, where her fingers had touched me, remembering the current of power that flowed between us. Not just magic, though that was extraordinary enough, but something deeper. Arecognition, perhaps. An understanding that beneath our crowns and carefully cultivated personas, we are more alike than either of us might wish to admit.
The strange black rose vine I discovered climbing my castle wall this morning only confirms that something fundamental has changed. Black roses grow only in Darkmore,neverin Underland—until now. I plucked a petal and pressed it between the pages of my private journal. Evidence of the impossible. Evidence of Ravenna's lingering influence on my kingdom.
The March Hare's frantic arrival changes my mood immediately. He bursts into my throne room, his entire body trembling more violently than usual. His fur stands on end and his ceremonial waistcoat is torn in several places. Most alarming of all, his pocket watch—the timepiece he values above all possessions—is missing entirely.
"Your Majesty!" He gasps for breath, his eyes wild with terror. "Edmund's forces—at the eastern border—they're killing—"
I'm on my feet before he can finish, my heart hammering against my ribs. The eastern border is where my army found a charred card last night. "How many?"
"A dozen, maybe more. They're—" His eyes go wide with horror. "They're slaughtering the magical creatures, My Queen. The ones who guard the border."
White-hot rage floods my system. Those creatures aremine. They might be odd, might bewildandunpredictable, but they're under my protection. No one touches what belongs to me.
No one.
"Assemble the Diamond and Heart regiments," I command the nearest card-soldier. "Full battle array. And send word to Queen Ravenna—she needs to know."
I storm toward the eastern border, my skirts swishing against the marble floors. I can’t be bothered taking the time to change from my morning gown, so I shed the more dramatic outer layers as I move. In times of crisis, speed matters more than spectacle—a lesson my parents learned too late.
Card-soldiers fall into formation behind me, their paper-sharp edges gleaming. Unlike flesh-and-blood soldiers, my card army requires no food, no rest, no reassurance. They exist to serve, to fight, to die if necessary. Their loyalty is absolute, their discipline unwavering. They are the perfect extension of my will.
As we approach the eastern edge of Underland, doubt creeps in like mist. Until now, my card-soldiers have faced only internal threats—rebellious subjects, unruly magical creatures, the occasional assassin. They've never confronted an organized military force, particularly one equipped with iron weapons that can slice through paper regardless of magical enhancement.
The sounds of battle reach us before we can see it—clashing metal, screams of pain, and underneath it all, a low hum of magic that makes my skin prickle. I round the corner to find chaos.
Edmund's soldiers, clad in iron armor that seems to absorb the very light around it, are methodically cutting down my magical subjects. A unicorn lies dead, its silver blood pooling beneath its broken horn. The dormouse who's guarded this section of border for a century is pinned to a tree by an iron spike. Three card-soldiers already lie shredded on the ground, their paper forms fluttering in the breeze.
But what stops me in my tracks is Ravenna.
She's already here. She’s alreadyfighting.
Her black dress whips around her legs as she moves, blood magic crackling from her fingertips like dark lightning. She's magnificent in her fury, deadly in her grace. As I watch, she flicks her wrist and one of Edmund's soldiers goes flying, his armor crumpling inward as if crushed by an invisible fist.
She's defendingmykingdom.Mysubjects. Without hesitation, without thought—she just jumped into the fight.
Something warm unfurls in my chest. How did she know?
"Protect your kingdom!" I command, and my card-soldiers surge forward. They move in perfect formation, their paper bodies a deadly force of sharp edges and precise strikes. I direct them with small gestures, positioning them to trap Edmund's army between their advance and the border's magical barriers.
Ravenna's eyes meet mine across the battlefield, and a jolt of understanding passes between us. Without a word, we begin to work in tandem. Her magic herds the enemy soldiers into my card-soldiers' formation. My troops drive them back into range of her deadly spells.
It's as if we've fought together for years, each anticipating the other's moves. Where my organized formations create structure,her wild blood magic brings chaos. Where her power focuses on individual threats, my soldiers control the overall flow of battle.
"Behind you!" she shouts, and I spin to find one of Edmund's men lunging for me. Before I can react, a bolt of Ravenna's magic slams into him, sending him crashing into a tree. The impact caves in his armor like it's made of tin.
"Three o'clock!" I call back, directing my card-soldiers to block an attack aimed at her blind spot. We move as though we’re dancers in a deadly ballet, each protecting the other while striking at our common enemy. The sensation is euphoric—having someone at my back whom I can trust, whose power complements my own, whose very presence makes me stronger.
Trust. The concept is almost foreign after years of ruling through fear. And yet, in the midst of battle, I find myself trusting Ravenna implicitly. Trusting her magic, her judgment, her commitment to our unexpected alliance.
But something's wrong with Edmund's soldiers. They're fighting too mechanically, toomindlessly. Their movements lack the fluidity of trained warriors, the adaptability of thinking combatants. Instead, they advance with robotic precision, following patterns rather than responding to the chaos of battle. And they're carrying crystal devices that seem to dim the very air around them.
"The crystals!" Ravenna shouts, apparently noticing the same thing. "They're draining the ambient magic!"
